Into the Shadows
by wilfre63
Summary: Jerome Valeska was a madman, anybody who was anybody knew that. But when he stumbled upon a child fated to change the world, something in his mind clicked. But it didn't mean he was anything less than a psycho. (Rated T for safety, set s4/5, mild gore/violence/language).
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Jerome Valeska was a madman. Anybody who was anybody knew that — in Gotham it was hard to find a person who hadn't heard of him. He was the crazy ginger that had the city by the throat from the start, but he didn't want to destroy it. He wanted it to thrive in the madness contained in his head. For Jerome, Gotham was the asylum. And he wanted out. It was not the same case for his twin. Jeremiah, you see, had meaning. He had a calling and he wanted Gotham City under his wing or he'd release a fate far worse than death. Jeremiah wanted the city all to himself and he didn't care who he stood on whilst climbing to the top because he wasn't coming back down again.

But the Valeskas are two sides to the same coin; as one creates the insanity the other harnesses it. You don't have to be a conjoined twin to be part of a plan, together they are the approach that puts together theory and method.

And thus brings us to December 26th, 2018. It was unusually cold that year, frost creeping in and taking hold of Gotham with its icy digits. But Jerome wasn't the kind of man to feel the cold. He was stood at the foot of a church, his back to the freezing brick. He had a cigarette slotted between his scarred lips and a scalpel in his blazer pocket. The doors to his left creaked open slowly and he crossed his arms.

"Took ya time," he said, the cigarette bouncing between his teeth.

A man appeared from the darkness. He had a newspaper hat balanced on his head and a pocket watch ticking away on a chain that was bound around his wrist. "I am truly sorry, Mr Valeska—"

"Please, call me Jerome. I don't have the same sense of hierarchy as my brother," Jerome waved a hand gently.

The man took a contained breath. "—But some situations cannot be avoided. As you can see I've hand my hands quite full, as of late."

"Yeah, yeah," he relit his cigarette as a gust of cold wind blew it out. "Get on with it, Tetch. I really don't care," JervisTetch. He was at the heart of Jerome's corruption, his right hand man.

"Well," Jervis continued. "I've been thinking it over and... I'm really beginning to question your idea. Perhaps we should go over the plan again in more detail...?"

Jerome put out the roll of paper in his hand and threw it on the ground, his white boot coming down on it heavily. He stared at him, his green eyes twinkling. "Do you really take me as a guy with a plan?" Jervis ignored the comment, it was best not to answer these kind of questions. "I just go with the flow, you get me? Maybe you should try it one day, and perhaps you'll even stop staring at that godforsaken pocket watch." Jerome said the end of his sentence with such force the man in front of him flinched.

A short band of silence followed, but was cut short by hooting laughter from Jerome. Jervis waited a good thirty seconds before it faded into a fit of giggles.

The ginger slapped him on the back. "C'mon, Tetch. Let's get outta here."

The two of them walked through the snow-covered graveyard, their footsteps crunching across the hidden path beneath them. Jerome was whistling to himself merrily; Jervis keeping a distance behind him with a brief scowl plastered onto his face. Every so often he'd glance at his pocket watch that swayed from his wrist, reminding himself why he was working for Jerome Valeska in the first place: Jerome had given him a deal. If he helped get back at Jeremiah, he would gain part of Gotham Jerome owned. It was a bargain, considering the consequences. Jeremiah was a dangerous man and was not one to be angered, at that. Tetch was playing with fire, it could either go well or entirely the opposite. Either way, it would result in him getting burnt, but due to the state the city was in he had no other choice. Gotham was about to be destroyed.

"Quit lagging behind, will ya." Jerome snapped as they crossed out of the forest and onto the road.

"Ever so sorry, Mr—" he paused. "—I mean Jerome."

"S'up with ya?"

Tetch cleared his throat and steadied his hat. "Just tied in my thoughts, is all."

"Hm," Jerome shrugged his shoulders and waited for him to catch up. "My mother always said I was a fast walker."

"Your mother sounds like a wise woman," Jervis appeared beside him.

He let out a breath and turned his head sharply toward him, his green eyes twinkling. "My mother was a prostitute— and a lier, must I add. She treated me like a slave and beat me when I did something wrong but, ya know," a smile crept across Jerome's face as he tapped the scalpel in his pocket suggestively. "She got what was coming to her."

Jervis bit his lip as they crossed the road. He decided to keep his mouth shut for the rest of the journey, Jerome was obviously tender on the subject, despite his smile. He was unpredictable, and that Jervis knew from experience.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Jerome and Jervis crossed into the Narrows. It had always been a breeding ground for crime, but since Jeremiah blew up the bridges the suffering had doubled. You see, only the people with money were able to escape Gotham when they could, this left the poor and unfortunate to slither around the remains of the city.

Overturned cars and lorries were strewn across the road, petrol leaking onto the concrete. Some had been set alight by mobsters or simply combusted of their own accord: their skeletal frames were black with soot. Jerome rested his foot on the door of a once white Ford and looked ahead. The skin under his eyes tightened.

"If I may, where exactly are we headed?" Jervis asked. "Your mind is focused somewhere other than here but your reactions suggest it is somewhere near." he strutted over and looked at his watch again. "Perhaps you could share with me that thought which may lead to the key...?"

Jerome wagged a finger and spoke quietly in his raspy voice. "Shh," he ducked down low, Tetch following his movements. "Quit rhyming and listen."

Jervis focused his ears. He could hear something... but it was too faint to hear what.

"We're not the only ones here,"

He opened his mouth to speak but the ginger snapped round, his eyes rolling back in his head with frustration. "Sshh," Jerome gritted his yellowing teeth. "Shh, just shh. There's someone up ahead, and if they hear ya they're gonna gut ya. I'm sure of that one," he put a foot forward. "C'mon."

They jogged past the smashed windows low and dived into the nearest alleyway. There was three or four silhouettes against a wall further down the street, the voices seemingly belonging to them. Jerome poked his head around the corner and rested in against a drain, the sound of running water drumming through his brain. He smiled devilishly and stood up, drawing a silver pistol from his inside pocket. Tetch threw him a questioning glance as he advanced down the centre of the road.

"What ARE you doing?"

Jerome waved a hand and giggled. "It's okay, you'll find out soon enough." he stopped and spun around, eyeing Tetch, who rubbed his arm sheepishly. "Watcha waitin' for? Get a move on! I'm getting so sick of telling you, I might just—" he backed off and snorted. "Whatever, I have bigger fish to fry."

Tetch slunk forward and pulled his hat further onto his head as Jerome began to move at a steady pace. He shivered. Further down the road there was a break; two roads either side of the men. A cut was carved into the side of the building, it appeared to have been created by an explosion. The air smelled of gunpowder and smoke.

Jerome hugged the wall, hearing the voices of two men up ahead. "Stick close," he whispered hoarsely to Tetch, who copied him and drew a gun. "Ya never know when one of em's gonna pop up."

They shimmied along, their footsteps suddenly quiet.

"Hey," one of the men said, placing something heavily onto the ground. "You got any more of them?"

"Nah, that's it." came the answer. "We've loaded them all."

"Hmph," something clattered across the ground, shuffling noises following. "Mr. J better pay us something good for supplying this stuff."

"Don't worry, he will." there was a click. "I'll be making sure of that. He ain't gonna palm something crappy off on us."

Jerome coughed, grabbing their attention. He walked out into the opening of the break and smiled. "Sorry to be a gatecrasher, n'all," he aimed his pistol. The two men, one a blonde and the other a brunette, stuck their arms in the air. "But I heard you mention 'Mr J'... the 'J' standing for Jeremiah, am I right?"

The blonde nodded quickly, tapping his foot against the ground. Jerome raised an eyebrow and cocked the gun. He looked over at the cargo they were loading. Six full barrels loaded and strapped onto the back of a truck. His eyes scanned the red and white wood. "TNT? What could Jeremiah want with TNT?" Jerome laughed, his sides aching. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve, the dirty cloth trailing the scars. "That's more of my thing. Right, enough chit-chat. Answer me."

"Uh," the blonde stammered, his body quivering as Jerome toyed with the gun. "He said he wanted them for a project he's working on. But he-he-he wouldn't say what."

"You lie," he steadied his weapon.

There was a sudden blur as the brunette reached behind him and pulled a double-barrelled shotgun into view. "Leave him alone, Valeska."

Jerome sighed and pressed his index finger against the trigger lightly. A shining bullet passed through the brunette's skull, blood splattering in every direction. Jerome wiped the red from his forehead and grinned. "Well now, one down, one ta go!"

"Make that two." a shape appeared in the darkness. A large shape. Footsteps grew closer as the figure bobbed, the blonde moving to one side. There was a loud puff of breathing a few feet above and Jerome's mouth stretched into a line.

"Who the heck are you?" he said, aiming the gun at the blonde in a half-focused fashion.

A mask could be seen as daylight reached the figures muscular frame. He put a large gloved hand against his leather jacket. "Bane."

"Well, uh," Jerome smiled bottling up a sea of laughter. " 'Bane', or whatever you are... Gotham isn't big enough for the both of us." he fired his pistol, the blonde dropping to the concrete.

There was a roar. Bane gripped Jerome by his throat and threw him against the wall, a couple of cracks appearing. His laughter wasn't contained anymore, instead it was released and merely added to his attacker's anger.

"Wooh!" Jerome whooped, his limbs swaying as Bane stared at him with two red eyes. "Talk about anger issues... and I thought Uncle Zach was bad."

A fist hit him in the torso and Jerome recoiled in pain. Bane pulled him forward before being

pushed back, the air knocked from his lungs. Tetch appeared from around the corner.

"Jervis," Jerome snapped weakly. "Never thought I'd say this but I'm glad to see you!"

Bane scowled beneath his mask. Jerome was hurled through the air towards Tetch, his body hitting the wall and sliding the the ground heavily. Luckily Tetch had moved at the last second. His eyes opened and caught sight of the shotgun lying on the blonde's chest. "Right," Jerome coughed up blood. "I've had enough of this."

He redoubled his efforts to get the weapon into his grasp as Bane marched toward him. Tetch ran to the side and tried to steady his gun, despite his shaky hands. He fired. Missed. The bullet imbedded itself into the wall. Bane's eyes darted to him and he scowled.Meanwhile, Jerome propped himself up against the wall, clutching the shotgun. He checked it was loaded before raising his voice.

"Hey," he spluttered, catching his enemy's attention again. "Take your issues out on this. I'm sure you'll have a blast!" Jerome fired, the bronze object hitting him square in the stomach.

With a roar, Bane coiled over, blood leaking onto his hands.

Jerome made a silent 'yes!' as he hobbled away from the wall's support. Bane growled and looked up, his teeth yellow and jagged. "Ahh, you've gotta be kidding me. Come on then, if ya think you're tough enough!" he pointed his finger in the direction of the truck. The door was hanging open, a belt with bullets clipped onto it hanging half on the ground. "Tetch, get that!"

Jervis darted for the vehicle as Jerome led Bane away. He fumbled with the object nervously, dragging it out. His eyes locked onto Jerome as he stumbled forward. "I've got it!"

"That's great," he said, a fist slamming into the wall above him. He fired the final bullet. "But I kinda need 'em over here. Throw it!"

Tetch hesitated before lobbing the belt into the air. It landed two feet away from Jerome as Bane spun around.Jerome smiled, blood oozing from between his teeth. He strapped the belt round his waist and loaded the shotgun, slotting two bullets into it.

"Hey!" Jerome waved his arms in the air. He felt a stab of pain. Bane growled and turned away from Tetch. "Yeah, I'm talking to you, beefybum!" they advanced on each other, Jerome's head hanging down as he let out a giggle through the corner of his mouth. "That's it... c'mon."

He fired manically, enjoying an interlude of laughter. The bullets hit Bane's surface yet he barely flinched. Jerome was down to his last bullet. "Ohh," his eyes widened as Bane towered over him. "...Give me strength." he turned to Jervis as a idea formed in his head. "Tetch, get outta here! Go! Run! Skidaddle!" Tetch ran.

He was suddenly pinned to the ground, a hand gripped to his throat. Bane smiled, his breath smelling of rotten fish. "Any last words, Valeska?" he growled.

"Yeah," Jerome struggled for breath and smiled back, lifting the shotgun to the side so it was aimed away from them. "Screw... you." he fired. There was a millisecond between Bane's look of surprise and an explosion. He was pushed back with Jerome, white noise clattering around them in a frenzy. Jerome skidded to a halt on the concrete and lay there, waiting for his ears to stop ringing. The world was spinning as he held his face to the ground, tiny stones digging into his scarred skin. He breathed in and out slowly as the noises began to sound normal again.

Jerome's eyes creaked open and he lifted himself up slightly. He was coated with black gunpowder. Licking his top lip with his tongue, he brought some of it into his mouth unknowingly. "Egh," Jerome spat, seeing it in the blob of saliva that had landed on the floor beside him. He got to his feet slowly and stared at the building. There was a hole blown in the front, the truck pulled to pieces and chunks of barrel strewn across the scene. Jerome bobbed as he chuckled to himself. "I love my ideas sometimes."

He limped forwards, trying to ignore the pain that pulsed through his body as he kicked a blown-apart barrel. The building was on fire, flames erupting from the windows and tickling the singed brickwork. It was in a state, but that was the way Jerome liked it. He turned and yelled down the street.

"TETCH!"

He appeared from behind an overturned lorry and, seeing who it was, he ran forward. "Ah, Jerome. I see you've caused chaos as usual."

"I'm an agent of chaos, what can I say?" Jerome lead him forward. "So, what d'you think?"

"Ah," Jervis steadied his hat in the wind. "It's, how can I put this...? Creative, yes I think that's the correct word. Although you might have heard that—"

He put a finger to Tetch's lips. "What did I say about the rhyming?"

There was a scream. The two men exchanged glances.

"I'm sensing hostility," Tetch said, following behind Jerome as they entered the building.

They took a flight of broken stairs and stopped on the landing. There were three man ahead of them, one with child hooked under their arm. There was a gun to her head.

"I'm guessing you're working for Jeremiah, too." Jerome said blankly.

"Stay back," one said, clutching the gun. "Or she gets it."

"Now why the heck would I care?" he asked, chuckling. "Sure, go ahead. Blow her brains out, I couldn't care less."

"I'm warning ya,"

Jerome leaned to Jervis. "Tetch, give me your gun." the cold metal touched the palm of his hand. He sighed and pointed it at the leader. "I'm really getting sick of Miah and his cronies. So... I'm gonna blast all of ya brains out."

There was a struggle as Jerome fired, killing one straight away. The girl screamed as blood hit her face. She crawled away from the man's grasp.

"Hey, get back here!" he snapped, shortly before a bullet hit his skull.

Jerome hit the remaining man over the head, causing him to hit the floor. "Hm," he shrugged. "That's it?"

There was yelling from down stairs. Tetch jumped. "There coming, Jerome!"

Four more men jumped onto the landing, this time more were carrying weapons. Jerome changed toward them, lashing out a fist as Tetch stood helplessly. "C'mon, Jervis! You're missing all the FUN!"

"FUN?" Jervis said, squeaking as an axe splintered the wood above him. It's owner was a large, flea-bitten punk with green hair. "Why you little..." he pulled the pocket watch from around his wrist and swung it gently, the pin in the centre swinging in the opposite direction. "Look at the watch and it's little notch, see it sway and let your mind float away." the punk's grip on the axe loosened. "There... Now, go get 'em!"

He charged toward the other men, narrowly missing Jerome as the axe soared past his face.

"Wow," the girl crawled out from under the table. "H-how did you do that?"

"Oh, it's simple really." Tetch gloated. "All you have to do is—"

"Really not the time, Jervis." Jerome scowled, putting a bullet in that back of the green-haired punk's head once he had disposed of the others. He waited until everything was quiet. "Is that all of them? I think so..."

"Jerome, look out!" the girl screeched as a final punk fired a gun. Jerome ducked just in time. The bullet sailed past his head and hit the girl. She coiled on the floor, clutching her middle as blood began to leak through the floorboards. Jerome sighed against Tetch's gasp, bobbing over to the girl.

"Well," he chuckled. "I guess that's done with."

Jervis shot him a glance that could have made him drop dead. "Jerome! We can't just leave her here, she saved your life!"

"Sure I can, what's stopping me?" he shuddered. "What use would a little kid be anyway? She'd just hold us back and get under our feet, isn't that what all kids do?"

There was a deathly silence. The two men stared each other in the eyes, pupils narrowing in distaste. Jerome smiled, flicking a knife from his pocket and into his hands. He made it do a somersault before pointing the tip at Jervis.

"Ya know, I wouldn't have a problem killing you along with the girl right here, right now. In fact, you're seriously starting ta tick me off." Jerome tilted his head as a smile tugged at his lips. His eyes were lowered mischievously, his pupils suddenly pinpricks against the shadows splattered across his scarred skin. "—And I'm not the kind of person to be serious."

"I'm aware of that," Jervis said meekly, his voice quaking at a slight high pitch.

Shaking his head, Jerome let out a chuckle. "Who am I kidding? I wouldn't kill you," he saw Jervis relax a little. "At least not yet, I need you."

Tetch arched his eyebrows and laughed quietly, in response to Jerome's whoop. He watched the ginger lower the knife as they glanced at the girl. She had curled further underneath the table, unmoving.

"Hm," Jerome shrugged. "Can we leave now? What am I saying, of course we can."

There was a creak from downstairs. Jerome perked up and smiled, twirling the knife playfully. "We got company."

Jervis peaked through the broken brickwork and onto the street below. Bane was advancing, and this time he wasn't alone; several other men were walking ahead, heavily armed with indescribable weapons. He backed up. "Jerome... We can't take these guys."

"Watcha sayin', Tetch?" he sighed. "Of course we can! What's wrong, scared of a little fight?"

"Stop it with your lies!" Jervis snapped. "These men are too strong, and I fear with your injuries," he gestured to his blood stained clothes. "That you won't last long."

Jerome threw his head back and groaned, baring his split teeth in frustration.

"Valeska!" a voice bounced up the staircase sharply. "Come out or we're comin' in, which is it?"


End file.
